


Brief Contact

by pickledpeaches



Series: Sweethearts Week 2015 [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Blitz - Freeform, Day 1, M/M, Sweethearts Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 22:19:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3357338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pickledpeaches/pseuds/pickledpeaches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 1 of the Sweethearts Week Challenge. The brief was to incorporate contact, physical or otherwise.</p>
<p>Alfred didn't want to go to Britain, he didn't want to face the harsh realities he knew were awaiting him. There was nothing he could do to change things, so why send him there at all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brief Contact

Alfred didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to see it. He’d heard back home about what was going on in Europe, he knew, and he didn’t want any part in it. He didn’t see what point there was in him going at all, his boss had insisted that he join a few US politicians on their journey to war-torn Britain, for reasons that were unknown to him. Perhaps he thought that Alfred could sway his people’s opinion on the matter of joining the war, but alas, that wasn’t the way of the world. His land and people made him what he was, not the other way around, that would be like some kind of self fulfilling prophecy, it just didn’t work that way.

Honestly it wasn’t like he didn’t care at all, there was an underlying concern that ate away at him. His people were fearful of being dragged into another war when the previous one had such a cost, but they still cared. Even so, the overwhelming feeling was along the lines of ‘Why should our boys be killed over skirmishes in Europe?’, it didn’t involve him, he was neutral.

Alfred released a deep breath and watched it weave out to sea, damn it was cold up on deck. But the sound of the sea was a calming one, he could understand why Arthur had such an affinity with it, it was just endless and empty apart from you. Looking into the distance, he wondered what it was like in old times, what England called his glory days. Ships with cannons striking each other at close range, he could imagine the fear and excitement amongst the splintering wood, everything seemed a lot more honest then. Now it was all very sneaky and underhanded, attacks really could literally come from anywhere at any time and that’d be it. Of course there had always been strategy, but at least you couldn’t hide behind clouds or under water, it was man to man. He vaguely wondered if there was anything under the blue swells he was currently gazing into, anything unnatural, watching them.

A loud klaxon shattered the mellow sounds of the sea making him clutch his chest in shock, he looked over towards the bridge catching his breath, something had been spotted ahead. Jogging over to the bow he squinted into the fog just about making out the silhouette of the land ahead, well, there was no turning back now.

***

Alfred stepped onto shore with a couple of other politicians, trying to regain his land legs in an elegant manner, waiting for them at the dock was a single man called Howard. Howard made sure to herd them all rather efficiently towards the rail station, it was quite the walk, but he found it to be quite nice to see a twee English town. They’d decided against sailing directly to the Thames dockland and chose a skirting county instead, a place called Poole. They had heard the reports over the radio about the state of London, he was unsure as to whether the docklands even existed anymore.

They all settled themselves down onto the train, finding entertainment in local papers and scenery. Alfred himself sat down and stared out the window, England was always so green, he wondered if that was the reason for Arthur’s eye colour. He supposed something good did come from all that rain after all, it was a very beautiful land, not that he’d ever tell England that of course. He got himself comfortable for the two hour journey, straight to the heart of London. A steady amount of dread settling itself into his stomach, still not happy with having to be there. He let a scowl settle itself to his usually bright face.

As they got closer to London, tell tale signs were starting to creep into their surroundings. The odd burnt out farmer’s field, a crater here and there. Once they reached the London suburbs it was a whole different story, it was a complete disaster. Fallen buildings all over the place, stray bricks littering the streets, charred skeletons of burnt down homes and businesses. Alfred looked away, he didn’t want to see it, no matter how much he wanted to help there was nothing he could do to persuade anyone.

He didn’t look out the window again until the train started to slow to a halt, Alfred was quick to get out, he needed some fresh air. Too bad there wasn’t any to be had, the whole place had a burnt aroma, it was embedded into everything and hung thick in the air making Alfred cough. Gosh this was awful, it was a mess. There was so much destruction, though the people he noticed, the people looked fine! He didn’t sense any despair from any of them, these people were so strong. He couldn’t help but feel intense admiration for them all, many thought Britain would follow France shortly after their fall. Churchill was right, they would never surrender, not by the looks of things.

Alfred began to feel a little better, Britain wouldn’t fall, no chance. The American procession was led over to the American Embassy, John Winant was the US ambassador currently residing there, one of his own with knowledge of the goings on here would be good to talk to.

Howard let them into the Embassy, detailing when and where they would be expected in the morning for their meeting with Churchill, and most likely England. Leaving them be, the other two went to their prospective rooms and settled in, neither knowing exactly who and what he was. John would know though, he spoke briefly with him before he shipped off to London to replace the previous ambassador. He made his way through searching for the man, finally encroaching on what seemed to be a study of sorts, John was leaning over a desk by the window.

“Hey John! It’s Alfred, how’s it going? Hope old Britain’s not been too hard on you.” He said with a chuckle, John looked wearily over to him, before brightening and jumping to his feet.

“Why hello there Sir, it’s good to see you here. Ah it’s not been too bad, all things considered I’m rather well.” He greeted with a warm smile, a little spark back in his exhausted eyes.

“Man you look pretty tired, make sure you get some rest tonight with the meeting tomorrow. Don’t want you falling asleep mid speech.” Alfred joked with a serious undertone of concern, the guy looked about ready to drop.

“Ah easier said than done, what with the night raids it can be pretty difficult to get undisturbed sleep.” John sighed deeply, looking back to the pile of work miserably.

Alfred felt a little sorry for the guy, “What are you working on? Can I do anything to help? Maybe you can get to bed a little earlier instead then.” he proposed, John looked a little too excited by the notion of sleep being that much closer.

“I’m actually almost finished, just affixing stamps to these letters to the US. You know a little subtle persuasion can go a long way in convincing America to join this war. Sorry I’m a little tired, I shouldn’t be speaking about you, to you.” He sighed miserably, smoothing over his face with his palm.

“Ah, don’t worry about it, I’ll sort out the stamps and get them posted, you go to bed. See you in the morning.” Alfred grinned at him while nudging John towards the door, he didn’t know anyone to work harder than this guy, he sure was a trooper.

“Okay, sure. There’s a pillar box down the road.” He said in farewell through a wide yawn, tottering down the hallway. Alfred turned back towards the desk, blinking down at the massive pile of letters. This would actually take a while.

***

It was dark by the time he’d finished and gathered all the letter’s together to take down the road, which was easier said than done with the blackout. He could hardly see anything, that and John didn’t exactly say which way down the road it was. He sighed in relief when he finally stumbled upon the box, slipping all the letters in gradually.

When he was just about finished, he noticed light. There was a soft glow casting his shadow against the box, turning around he looked towards the city. Dropping the remaining letters to the ground, he only stared in silence. The city was ablaze.

All the sounds came rushing back at once, he heard the planes now above him and deafening sirens all around, incendiaries were quiet compared to other bombs but now the roaring flames in the distance hid nothing. He was frozen on the spot, until he saw John rushing past him towards the city at a full run. He ran after him, looking to help where they could. Lifting fallen debris, helping people to shelter, anything they could do, they did. John really did look ready to drop now, Alfred ushered him into the underground with the rest. “I’ll continue helping, you need to look after yourself. Think of your family.” Alfred reasoned, it didn’t look like John would be able to go against his orders anyway. Alfred ran back out into the streets, he ended up somewhere familiar, even in all the destruction.

He caught sight of a sign and had a stark realisation, Westminster borough, that was where England’s London estate was. He searched his memory to the exact location of the old house and set off in what he hoped was the right direction. When he found it, amazingly the place was relatively unscathed, there was a slight wall collapse but nothing to the scale of elsewhere. The door was swung open, he ran inside hoping the find the owner, shouting his name as he systematically went through all the rooms. Arthur wasn’t here, he leaned against the upstairs landing wall breathing heavily. Where was he then? His eyes grazed around the house for clues, his eyes caught some dark spattering on the carpet. He knelt down to take a closer look, swiping his fingers over the area, drawing them back. It was damp, and had a metallic twang to the smell, it was blood. That was when he felt the tendrils of panic seep into him, shit. He followed the patterns in the carpet, making his way to the front door which had a bloody smear on the back by the handle. Fuck.

So, from this he could deduce, England was out in the middle of an air raid, God knows where, injured and bleeding. Potentially dying. Alfred dashed out, trying to follow the blood as well as he could, but with the dust and ash littering the floor it was getting harder. Wherever Arthur was heading, it was towards the flaming ruins he’d first seen glowing earlier.

Turning a corner, he saw a group firemen determinedly trying to extinguish the flames in front of a huge cathedral. Alfred made his way over to offer any help he could, freezing when he heard a familiar voice full of command.

“Stay strong men! Gillian’s bringing another pump from the river, we can stave this flame. London is strong, it’ll take more than this to tear her down!” Arthur’s voice rose above the roaring flame, Alfred strained to pinpoint it.

America realised he was one of those holding the hose, pointing it through a blazing window. “Arthur! What are you doing here? Are you hurt?” Alfred grasped Arthur’s shoulders jostling him slightly with worry, perhaps not the best idea.

England looked at him from under the peak of his fireman’s cap, wincing at the pressure to his shoulders. “ _Alfred_ , what the hell are _you_ doing here? Go find shelter you lunatic!”, he forced Alfred to let go swinging his arm around, “You’re in the way! Get to the underground, now!” He shouted at the younger country with a steely determination in his eyes.

Alfred gave him a once over, he was speckled in lacerations of varying severity all over where he could see, dark patches seeping through where he couldn’t. “I’m not leaving you, I’ll help and then we can both go _together_. Okay?” He countered, it wasn’t even a question really, he grabbed part of another hose, supporting it the same way England was. Arthur turned his attention back to the flames that seemed to whip a hundred feet in the air, this was no small task. He continued shouting encouragement to his firefighters, when Gillian arrived with a pump line directly from the river Alfred took a hose himself and went to douse the flames elsewhere starting to take hold.

By the time the raid was over, as amazing as it was, the cathedral had been saved from destruction. The firemen littered the ground catching their breath, feeling an ounce of accomplishment in face of such devastation really was amazing. Alfred made his way over to England who was surveying the city, with a grim look set on his face. “Hey, you need to get those looked at.” He said pretty much gesturing to England as a whole, seeing as he was littered with wounds.

“I’ll be fine, our services are overrun with real patients. I’ll heal on my own just fine, without medical assistance.” Arthur huffed picking to soot out from under his nails, looking up to America. “I appreciate the help you gave us last night, it’s a pity your actual people can’t afford us the same. You needn’t concern yourself with me, go home.” Arthur dismissed, turning away to walk off.

Alfred wasn’t having that, he reached out and spun England back round to face him. “Look Arthur, I want to help and my people want to help. It’s just they don’t want their families to die for something that doesn’t involve them.” Alfred tried to convince him that he cared, but Arthur just looked at him blankly.

“Excuses America, you think Hitler’s just going to leave you be once he’s finished over here? He’s in it for the long game America, he’s after the world! He won’t stop until every last one of us is under his control. Ever.” He gripped his forehead as if staving off a headache.

Before Alfred really knew what he was doing, he pulled Arthur to him and wrapped him up in a hug. “I know, I’m sorry. I have no doubt that I’m going to get involved eventually, it’s just a matter of when someone strikes first. We’re not free like we used to be, we don’t pick and choose our own fights. But I’m here now, I can help now and I want to. So c’mon, let me dress those wounds for you?” Alfred pulled back to look down at Arthur, who looked to be internally struggling, eyes glistening slightly.

Arthur cleared his throat, America hadn’t hugged him since before his revolution. This contact, even brief as it was, really meant a lot to him, “If you insist, I won’t stop you.”

America beamed down to him, leading him off to get some gauze and steriliser. “I have to say Arthur,  I’m really impressed. Your citizens are so strong to keep going after going through this, I can see why you’re so stubborn now” Alfred chuckled to himself, the only response he gained from Arthur was a huff and a scowl. “I’m impressed by your fire fighting skills though, I think if it was me on my own, I’d have no idea what to do!” Alfred praised him, hoping to get a smile from the older country.

“What do you expect really? I lived on a pirate ship for years, you’d think I’d garner the best ways to put out fires and fast.” Arthur tittered slightly, a sad smile on his face, not exactly the type Alfred was aiming for but it was something. Alfred finished up dressing what he could see, pulling Arthur to his feet as well. They both let their eyes graze across the ruined city, “Think we’ll survive?” Arthur asked, solemn.

Alfred pulled Arthur’s shoulder to lean against him, a comforting gesture. “I really hope so Artie. I’m gonna do what I can to make sure you do.” Alfred was now determined to see to it.

**FIN**

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This was my attempt at the first day of the USUK sweethearts week challenge. 
> 
> It's not really very fluffy, but was meant to be more centring around the first meaningful contact between them since America revolted, and Alfred's mindset change from 'going with the flow' to determined to make a difference himself.
> 
> I hope you liked it anyway, it's a bit rushed so I hope it's legible! I'll have to revisit it once the week's over ;)


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